A Wise King
by Aniron peded
Summary: Sequel to Foolish Apprentice. Ansem is a wise ruler, but is human and prone to making mistakes. Some he notices, others he doesn't.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or any characters that appear in that game. Nor do I own any Final Fantasy characters that might wander through this story. The only things in this story that are not shamelessly swiped from elsewhere are Brennan and the names of the books. Any books that might appear that aren't directly mentioned by name but are immediately recognizable by plot obviously don't belong to me either.

This is a sequel to _Foolish Apprentice_.Like almost everything else I've written, spoiler warnings for any and all Kingdom Hearts games.

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He was curled against a pillow on the window ledge, basking in the warm sunlight as he read. It was a rare opportunity to indulge in one of his fiction books, and Ansem intended to take full advantage. His golden eyes skimmed the pages eagerly. He'd just gotten to one of his favorite parts, where the hero was playing a riddle game for his freedom against the slimy underground creature he'd met, when Ansem became aware of a presence next to him. Looking up, he met the gaze of his father.

Brennan looked less than impressed. "Your tutor waited nearly an hour before sending word that you failed to arrive, Ansem. She is on the verge of resigning because you insist on hiding away and not attending your lessons."

Ansem fiddled with the page between his fingers. "I am sorry, Father," he mumbled.

Brennan sighed. "You're always sorry, Ansem, and yet you continue like this. What am I to do with you?"

Ansem's cheeks burned, and he looked down at his book instead of answering. It wasn't that he minded the lessons, especially with the new tutor who was _much_ better than the last one, but he'd started reading and everything else slipped his mind. Nine-year-olds were prone to forgetting things, weren't they? A thought struck him. "Maybe, instead of having them in the middle of the afternoon, I should have them after lunch? I won't have time to forget that way," he said.

Brennan tilted his head to the side and studied his son. "Very well, then," he said. "Let's go have a talk with Mrs. Kramer and see what she says."

Fortunately for Ansem, Mrs. Kramer was more than willing to change times for him. "After all," she said with a smile, "we can't have our future ruler growing up ignorant because he forgets to go to his lessons, can we?"

"No, ma'am," Ansem said.

He spent the rest of the afternoon trailing his father; Brennan's afternoons were usually devoted to making sure the castle was running smoothly. It was interesting to watch him prowl the castle and its grounds, speaking with this guard or that maid, stopping to chat with one of the gardeners about the state of the vegetables that were to be served that night. Brennan knew quite a bit about his domain, and it was obvious that the people he spoke to knew and appreciated this.

Time passed. The moved lessons worked out perfectly, though Mrs. Kramer often had to call Ansem back to reality when his mind wandered. Though that did happen less as he grew older and his concentration improved, he thought he'd never see his lessons as anything but a duty he had to endure.

On the other hand, the afternoon sessions with his father became a regular occurrence that he always looked forward to. He hardly noticed how thoroughly the walks tied him into the lives of the people, until he found himself chatting away with a pair of the cook's assistants and was late to dinner as a consequence. It was, he thought, an eye-opening experience.

His father died late one winter while Ansem was away, visiting his mother's family. He'd caught pneumonia, and had denied it was anything but a cold until it was too late, the healers told him when he returned. As much as the late king hated admitting that he was ill, Ansem was not surprised he'd delayed treatment. _I wish you could have lived longer, Father_, he thought as the coffin was lowered into the cold ground. _I don't know that I'm ready for this._

He supposed he should be grateful that seventeen was considered old enough not to require a regent. _That_ would have made it even more intolerable. As it was, more than once he woke up with a crick in his neck from sleeping with his back against the door, trying to shut out the world.

His own coronation took place nearly a month later, as the farmers were beginning to ready their fields for spring. It was a simple ceremony, like most performed in Radiant Garden. The real excitement was to see the types of gifts others sent, both from other areas of the world and different worlds that had contact with them. Most were ornate things, gold and jewels and rich cloth that Ansem made the appropriate sounds of appreciation for.

Disney Castle sent a box of books, along with a letter with their king's regrets that he could not afford to be there in person. _These are some of the things I read when I first became king, along with others I've collected over the years_, it said. _I do hope they serve you as well as they've served me._ While some of the texts looked interesting, especially the science ones and _History of the Keyblades and Their Wielders_, Ansem had to wonder what the other king had gotten out of _Marcus Mouse's 101 Tips for Farmers_. It was this curiosity that made him open that book first, before he went to sleep that night.

The very next day found him discussing the book with the head gardener, and by afternoon Ansem was directing some of the staff into developing an experimental plot of land to try out a few of Marcus's techniques. It would take some time before they would know which of the suggestions would work on their world and which would require adjustment, as it was still too cold to even begin planting. Still, it was a start.

Besides, there were other books, and other things to try. Maybe he could make Radiant Garden truly live up to the name. It wasn't very long before the remaining books were eagerly devoured, and he started on the castle library's holdings in earnest.

By twenty he was a known researcher, willing to try locating an answer to nearly any question he was presented with, and a few he wasn't. By thirty, he had had a personal research center built in the lower levels of the castle, and his subjects had titled him "Ansem the Wise", much to his embarrassment.

At thirty-six, he found a white-haired boy collapsed in the street.


	2. Chapter 2

Ansem paced through the rooms of his laboratory, feeling restless despite the late hour. As he moved around the various tables and setups, it occurred to him that he had not left the castle for some time. _Perhaps a stroll through the town will calm me_, he thought.

A glance at the sky as he walked showed a wide expanse of stars, with no threat of rain. Even so, the streets were deserted at this time of night.

At least, they should be. Ansem's footsteps momentarily paused at the sound of something hitting the ground just ahead. Rounding the corner, he stopped short at the sight of the battered and bloody body illuminated by the streetlights. Shaking his head to clear it, Ansem knelt next to the man - boy, really - and examined him. Still alive, then; Ansem casted a Cure and wrapped him up in his lab coat. The spell should be enough to keep him alive until Ansem could get him to the castle and his injuries could be treated.

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Ansem nodded his thanks to the maid that had brought the tea, and wrapped his hands around the hot cup. Healed and bathed, the boy was in one of the guest bedrooms of the castle, tanned skin contrasting with the creamy pajamas he'd been dressed in. The white tunic and black pants the boy had been wearing were utterly ruined, and Ansem had ordered them thrown away. He was still unconscious after three days, and his chances of waking up were becoming slimmer with each day that passed. Ansem shifted in his chair by the window, wishing there was more he could do to influence the situation.

As if he'd heard Ansem's thoughts, the boy stirred suddenly, turning his head and blinking his eyes. Ansem quickly rose and set down the cup before moving next to the bed. "So, you've awoken," he said, giving the boy a reassuring smile. "That's very good; I was worried. When I found you, I wasn't sure you would pull through. It seems you had taken quite a beating of some sort, and yet here you are."

Amber eyes turned dark, and the boy shuddered at the reminder. Ansem gave his hand a small squeeze, an apology for bringing those memories up and to recall him to the present. He couldn't keep calling him 'the boy' all the time, after all. "Can you tell me your name?"

The boy nearly answered, before something like shock came over his face. "I-I don't remember."

Ansem blinked. Amnesia had certainly not occurred to him, but was not outside the realm of possibility. The medical texts he'd studied had mentioned that temporary amnesia often occurred with traumatic events. "That's just fine," he assured the boy, who had begun to tense up. "You'll remember, eventually. For now it's just another x, a blank space to be filled in. Until then, you can remain here under my care. I am Ansem, often called Wise by my subjects, and we are in the castle of Radiant Garden. This is my home, and you are welcome here as long as you like."

The smile the boy gave him stretched fully across his face, completely wiping the uncertainty that had lingered there since he'd woken up. Ansem returned it, and pulled the blanket further up on the bed. It was only a matter of time before the boy remembered himself, and could tell him how he ended up in the street in that condition.

"I'm not going to remember anything, am I?"

Ansem looked up from the papers he was gathering together. They were mostly on people the boy remembered - nobody - and what stimulants sparked in his memory – nothing – since he'd woken up a week and a half ago. The boy was running his fingertips over the cover of the book in his lap, white bangs falling forward to hide his eyes. He was still weak enough to be confined to bed, but otherwise seemed perfectly healthy.

Except for the memory loss. "These types of injuries often take the longest to heal," Ansem told him. "Do not be discouraged about your progress."

The boy nodded. "I've decided on a name," he announced. "Until I remember my real name, I'm going to call myself Xehanort. If that's all right with you, Master Ansem," he quickly added.

"Xehanort? What made you decide on that?" Ansem reached over to still his restless hands, making the boy focus on the question. Even if it was only subconscious remembering, a name of some sort was improvement.

Red crept into the boy's cheeks. "It's an anagram, sir. You said my name was 'another x', and I know you didn't mean it like that, but I used it anyway." He glanced up, as if to gauge his reaction.

Ansem did his best to cover the slight sigh of disappointment with a chuckle. "That is certainly an unusual way to choose a name. However, I think in this case it is entirely appropriate."

Taking the boy for his apprentice later was, he thought, one of the best idea he'd had in a long time. Xehanort seemed to be less learning what Ansem taught him and more remembering it, making it a pleasure to teach him. As the months and then years passed, Ansem realized that the lost teen had, somehow, claimed a spot in his life that was less of an adopted stray and become more of a son. It was exhilarating, having somebody around who looked at his work not as the habits of a brilliant but eccentric king, but as the wonderful explorations into the world that Ansem had always viewed them as.

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Radiant Garden's small hospital rarely had to deal with anything more than small illnesses or minor injuries that occurred in the town. The castle's inhabitants usually took advantage of the pair of healers that lived in the castle, who came with the added prestige of having taught the king. There were times, though, when the medically-oriented staff at the hospital was better suited to Ansem's needs for some of his many projects. The one that brought Ansem down, without his three apprentices, had to do with the data the hospital had been gathering about illnesses from the last decade at his request.

He located the door marked 'Research Department' without a problem and let himself in. The room was neat and orderly, including the standard lab table that was half taken up by microscopes. Counters lining the wall were clean and cleared, shelves and cupboards labeled in neat script. The sole occupant at the time was at one of the desks in the back, punching numbers into a calculator and writing down the results. "For the last time, I will not work in the front," he said without looking up. "My skills do not reside in the wiping of children's noses."

Ansem's lips twitched. "I'll be sure to pass that on," he said.

The other man's head snapped up, eyes wide. He stood and gave a half-bow, shoving long hair out of his face. "Forgive me, Your Grace. I thought you were someone else."

"So I gathered. What's your name?"

"Even Coleman, sir. I have that report you asked for..." Even trailed off as he flipped through the papers on his desk and pulled out a manila folder. "I took the liberty of charting the prevalent illnesses among various age groups as well as the general data you requested," he said, proffering the folder.

"Thank you. I should have asked for that initially." The graphs labels and other writings were written in the same clear hand that marked the storage spaces around the room. That was promising. "Did you happen to see anything interesting in this?" he asked.

"Yes, actually. Let me show you." Even reclaimed the report and spread it out on one of the counters. The confidence he showed as he pointed out trends and theorized about them was well-earned, Ansem thought, especially after Even began pulling records off the shelves to support his words.

Once the younger man had run down, Ansem looked around the room. "Is there anyone else in the Research Department?" he asked.

Even gave a stiff nod. "Two others, actually. We're constantly tripping over each other in here. They've been working on other things while I did the research you asked for, though."

"Good. I have an offer to make you, and I would hate to leave this place short of staff."

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Six apprentices studied under him by midwinter. They brought life to his once-quiet laboratory, and the kind of companionship that only other scholarly minds could bring. Xehanort especially proved himself an able assistant to him in their little circle. It surprised him, then, when he volunteered to be the subject of their experiments with the darkness. Of all his apprentices, Ansem thought that Xehanort would be the least likely to want to be experimented on, and most likely to wish to do the experimenting.

The idea of unlocking the youth's memories was the clenching argument for him. Especially since Even, who had solid medical background, thought that there was a high chance that those memories could be retrieved even after all this time.

Ansem still couldn't suppress the tiny voice of apprehension that suggested that he find someone whose past was known before they delved into the unknown of Xehanort's heart. _But_, he reasoned, _if we never take steps into the mysterious, we'd never learn anything new. And this_ will_ help Xehanort._

"Master Ansem, may I speak with you?"

"Just a moment, Ienzo." Ansem quickly wrote his signature and set the paper aside as his youngest apprentice entered his study. "There. Now, what is it you need?" he asked, giving the teen a fond smile.

"A thought just recently occurred to me, and it made me wonder whether the storage space that is down here is still in operation," Ienzo said.

Ansem shook his head. "No, it hasn't been used in quite some time." He steepled his hands and rested his chin on his fingertips. "I'm fairly sure that we won't need to use it again, either. The new warehouses in town do the job just as well."

"Perfect. You see, Elaeus and Dilan were saying that they don't feel that their work is very secure, with the labs being so open and your study being all the way in the back the way it is. Plus, there isn't very much room for any of us to spread out right now. With all due respect, sir, this place was created with only you in mind, and there's just not room for the six of us as well."

He straightened in his seat slightly. How could he have missed that? "One of you should have said something earlier. Especially after Braig's accident, the idea that we need more security is very important."

Ienzo nodded enthusiastically. "We didn't want to interrupt the research, but I've been looking at Elaeus and Dilan's work, and I think that they're on to something. If we had a larger workspace, I'm certain that we'll be able to discover the key to the darkness in people's hearts, just like you wanted us to."

"Do you really?" Bless Xehanort for bringing the teen to his attention. As bright as Ienzo was, he probably would have been miserable if he'd remained in the general school system. "Very well. Tell the others tomorrow morning to meet with me here, instead of spreading out. We'll all take a look around and see if we can find more room for all seven of us."

One of the first things they found was the old computer system, which had gone out of use over a decade ago. Ansem had nearly forgotten about it, and was surprised that it was still operational after being abandoned for so long. Ignoring the gentle teasing of his apprentices about the age of the technology, he set to work to change the programs to better suit this project and their needs.


	3. Chapter 3

Though they had quit bolting breakfast down only after he'd threatened to simply send them back to the library, his students were still eating fast enough that choking was only just avoided. He couldn't blame them, really, considering how many delays there were in completing the new laboratory. One would think that they hadn't been underfoot during its construction, they were so eager to go see the finished product.

He pushed his plate away and rose, pretending not to see how his students all froze as they waited. Etiquette dictated that none should leave the table until the ruler, and consort if there was one, left the room, and not even the six of them were exempt. The moment that Ansem cross the threshold, he heard the sound of scraping chairs and hastily-said excuses, then footsteps following after him.

A cleared throat drew his attention to the squire standing in front of him, who held out a sealed letter. "Message for you, Your Grace," the boy told him. "They said it was important."

"Thank you," Ansem said, taking and opening in the letter. The squire took that as a dismissal and, shooting a wide-eyed look at the approaching apprentices, quickly retreated.

"What is it, Master?" Xehanort asked.

Ansem skimmed the page. "The lord of the northernmost province died recently, without an heir. They need me to decide between the relatives who appear to have equal claim to the succession."

"You're _leaving_?" Braig asked.

Ansem gave him a stern look. "I have to. This is my kingdom, and my responsibility." All six faces in front of him were studies in disappointment. He could sympathize - how often had he complained of how unfair it was for affairs of the state to interfere with his research? This was going even further, delaying his students-

-all of who were more than competent scientists in their own right.

He nearly laughed. _Of course_. "While I am gone, I expect to be reasonably updated of the progress you make. Xehanort will oversee the experiments and keep me informed."

Elaeus got it first. "You're letting us start in the new lab on our own," he said, the last half of his sentence nearly drowned out by a whoop from Braig.

Ansem nodded in confirmation, smiling at the delighted explosion of noise from all six of them. "Go on," he told him, waving them away. "I know you've been dieing to get started."

Braig and Ienzo promptly took off running for the study, quickly leaving behind Dilan who only strode briskly through the halls after them. Even and Elaeus, too controlled to even do that much, strolled casually along as they discussed something between them.

Xehanort lingered, smiling and giving him a small bow. "Thank you, Master Ansem," he said. "Do you need any assistance in preparing for your journey?"

"You're welcome, Xehanort. I know how much this project means to you." He set his hand on Xehanort's shoulder and smiled at the younger man. "There are plenty of servants to help gather everything I need, so you can go ahead and join the others. I promise I won't leave without saying goodbye," he added.

It was probably just his imagination that Xehanort's smile faltered slightly, because when he blinked it was just as strong as before. "Very well, Master Ansem," he said, then turned and jogged to catch up with Even and Elaeus.

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The letter was right, in that both ladies appeared to have equal claim to the lordship of the province. What Ansem found upon his arrival was that one of the ladies in question was a three-year-old orphan being cared for by her grandmother, while the other was in fact a grown woman.

It made the choice much more simple than he'd anticipated.

He didn't anticipate being cornered by the child's grandmother shortly after his decision was announced. "I have a request to make, Your Grace," she told him.

"Madame, if you are asking me to make you your granddaughter's regent-" he started.

She cut him off. "No, not that. You've done what you think is right, and I can live with that. What I was is for you to let the two of us go back to the castle with you." When he said nothing, she folded her hands behind her and straightened up to her full height. "Your Grace, if Kairi stays here, she'll always be seen as that girl who almost got to rule, but couldn't. She's the sweetest baby you could imagine, and I don't want her growing up with that over her head. So I ask you again, may we return with you to the castle?"

Ansem rubbed his chin in thought. He disliked taking a child from her home, but he was looking at her only living relative. The woman had a point, too. He dropped his hand and nodded. "Speak with Laguna Loire, my Knight Commander. He'll let you know what to bring and where to go when we leave."

"Thank you, Your Grace," she said.

Xehanort did send reports, as he'd requested, but they were vague and Ansem had no urge to linger while there was work to be done at home. As soon as it was polite, he found himself back on the road. He kept an eye on Kairi and her grandmother, and was pleased that both seemed to enjoy the journey. It was after dinner and they were camped a day away from the castle when a series of shouts caught Ansem's attention. He peered out of his tent, only to find that the people nearby were staring and pointing up at the sky. When his gaze followed theirs, his breath caught in his throat at the sight.

Pinpricks of light were streaking across the sky, thick enough to drown out the stars. It almost looked like the sky was falling down onto them, there were so many shooting stars.

It was beautiful.

The display went on for over an hour before finally dieing down. Realizing that some of the objects fell around the campsite, Ansem sent a pair of squires that had been gawking nearby out to gather them up. They came back with a large basket full of little blocks, which Ansem made sure was carefully stored away. He was sure his students would want to examine them.

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His return received the usual fanfare. There was the flurry of people making sure that everything was unpacked properly, and the settling in of his guests, and by then it was time for him to preside over the feast that officially welcomed him back. Only afterwards could he go see how fared his students, who had been noticeably absent from the proceedings.

"Did any of you see the meteor shower last night?" he asked. They were waiting for him, noteboards already set up and what appeared to be several tanks of hearts placed around the room.

Interesting.

"We all did," Dilan told him. "An impressive display."

Even chimed in with his own thoughts, and Ansem was gratified by how several of them gleamed with excitement when he revealed that he had some of the meteors for them to examine. The love of learning was strong in all of them. "Now then, how have your studies gone?" he asked.

Xehanort's in-depth report of their findings proved much more interesting than reading his summaries while traveling had been. The six of them had learned a great deal about how the darkness affected the heart, and about the Heartless that resulted. Something bothered him while they spoke, and it wasn't until the end that he could put his finger on it.

"Where did you get the hearts?"

_I have made a grave error._


	4. Chapter 4

There was a tap on his half-open door. "Your Grace, there's a visitor here for you," the squire said.

Ansem looked up from the report he'd been trying read for the last hour. "Let him in." Visitors down in the lab area were rare, since most of them preferred to wait for him in the main areas of the castle.

When his visitor stepped into view and introduced himself, though, Ansem was glad he had come directly to him. A fellow king should never be kept waiting. "Leave us, Irvine, and please shut the door behind you."

King Mickey waited until Irvine had gone before turning back to him and spreading his hands. "Wise Ansem. I'm here to seek your advice." He tucked his hands behind his back and began pacing back and forth in front of Ansem's desk. "That big meteor shower a while back wasn't just a meteor shower. It was the barriers between the worlds comin' down, which means we can travel between worlds again. But something's wrong. I've been going around to different worlds, and all of them I've found these strange creatures attacking people. They can't been destroyed permanently by ordinary weapons."

Ansem frowned and leaned forward on his elbows. "Strange creatures?"

He nodded. "They glide around like shadows on the ground, then spring up and attack. Here," he said, fumbling in his vest. "I've got a drawing of one to show ya."

Ansem unfolded the page, and stared for a long moment at the image, before reaching into one of his desk drawers and pulling out a photo from the lower laboratory to offer Mickey. "We were studying the darkness, and they started appearing. My students call them Heartless." His mind suddenly caught up with his ears. "You said ordinary weapons can't destroy them permanently. Have you found an extraordinary weapon that will?"

Mickey handed the picture back. "Yup. The Keyblade." He held out his hand, and the key appeared in a flash of golden light. A pause, and then it vanished again the same way. "There's more. When the Heartless aren't attacking people, they all seem to gather around these doors that appeared after the barriers went down. My theory is that they're trying to get to whatever's behind them."

"I find I think better when I have an ice cream bar. Would you like one?" Ansem asked, reaching into the nearby chest.

"Nah. My wife's spoiled me on homemade sweets, I think." Mickey gave him a grin and a wink.

Ansem unwrapped a bar and took a bite. Once he'd swallowed, he repeated Xehanort's theory about Kingdom Hearts and the connections between worlds. Mickey quickly pointed out that, if Heartless overran Kingdom Hearts, it could very well destroy any balance between light and dark.

"I'm glad we had the chance to speak like this, my friend. I'm intrigued by your hypothesis, and I'm finding it difficult to stave off the urge to test it. Still, I'm concerned about the stability of the worlds," Ansem said, sitting back. The prospect of being swallowed by darkness did not appeal to him.

"Yep, that's what worries me too," Mickey said.

He rested his chin on one hand, thinking out loud. "The doors that appeared. The place the Heartless seek. I fear my research may have brought this upon us..." he finished, burying his face in his hand. _I should never have started this project_, he thought.

There was a knock on the door, and both monarchs looked up as Xehanort entered.

Ansem mentally sighed. _That boy has the worst timing._

_Wait a moment, he's asking to-_

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Mickey could only stay for a few days, but was more than willing to spend that time talking with Ansem. They covered many subjects, lingering over those connected to the darkness and hearts. Though he did tell his apprentices that they were free to join them, the six of them seemed to prefer to continue on their own studies. Mickey mentioned to him that they often fell silent when he entered the room – probably a side effect of the mouse king having witnessed Xehanort's unfortunate dressing-down. Ansem hoped that it would pass before Mickey had to resume his journey, but it proved to be a false hope. Mickey told him not to worry to much about it, that he couldn't expect to be popular with a group when he was occupying so much of their teacher's time.

Before he left, Mickey suggested that he look at the data from the underground laboratory. "You never know," he said. "They might have found something that'll help us. There's no reason to let that go to waste."

Ansem nodded. "You're right, of course. I shall do so immediately, and find a way to get in touch with you if I find anything." He shook hands with the small king, who then jumped into his gummi ship and waved goodbye.

As he made his way down to his study, he ran into his Knight Commander speaking to his son, Squall. It amazed him sometimes at how much the two looked alike, especially in their crisp uniforms. "Is there a problem, Laguna?" Ansem asked.

Laguna shrugged. "Squall says that he's bored, and doesn't believe me when I say that's a good thing for us."

"If you're so in need of something to do, Squall, why don't you come with me? I might need an extra pair of hands."

Squall looked at his father, who nodded, then back at Ansem. "Yes, Your Grace," he said, falling in step behind him as he continued walking.

The boy wasn't very talkative, which was fine by Ansem. He was busy wondering what they would find in the laboratory, if anything, and if it would be helpful to them at all. It also came to him that, despite his students' reassurances, some of the Heartless must have escaped for them to be causing trouble on other worlds. That could bode nothing but ill for the peace of Radiant Garden itself.

He told Squall to wait in his study while he continued on through the hidden door. The computer would be left alone for the moment – he wanted to see what had occurred in the laboratory proper. Unfortunately, the door no longer opened to his command. _Maybe they truly listened to me and shut this place down_, he thought, turning away and sweeping the room with his gaze. There – a stack of papers sat on the computer desk.

They had his name on them.

He flipped through them, barely believing what he was reading. _I shall conduct the following experiments_, _Perhaps further study will-_, _darkness in people's hearts?_ Ansem tore his eyes from the papers and stared out the window that overlooked the laboratory without actually seeing anything. _Xehanort, what's happened to you?_

Only one way to find out, really. Xehanort had been avoiding him during King Mickey's visit, and the two of them were long past due for a serious talk. "Squall, please send for my apprentice Xehanort. I have something I need to discuss with him. Afterwards, you're free to spend the afternoon as you wish," Ansem said as he reentered his study and took his seat.

After the squire was gone, Ansem spread the eight pages across his desk and looked over them. When his apprentice got here, they would talk about this rationally, and he would learn where Xehanort had gone wrong, and then everything would fall into place like it should.

Unfortunately, when the younger man arrived, the first thing out of Ansem's mouth was not what he intended. "Explain this, Xehanort."

"Master Ansem?" Xehanort raised his brows at his teacher, as if he felt no need to answer.

The utter insolence of his tone, combined with the way his student – all of his students, really – had been acting since he shut down their work, infuriated Ansem. "Explain to me this travesty, Xehanort, that you have written _in my name!_" He stood and leaned forward, indicating the reports scattered under his hands. "You opened the door to this world, you conducted experiments without my permission, you deliberately disobeyed me-" _You betrayed my trust, Xehanort. After all I've done for you, why?_

"We wouldn't have had to disobey you, _Master_, if you hadn't halted us, held us back-"

Ansem found himself shouting at Xehanort, something he'd never done before. A miscalculated sweep of his hand hit one of the glass tanks his students had so carefully prepared, knocking it to the floor. In the silence that followed, a small sound drew his attention to the doorway to the underground laboratory. Braig, Dilan, Even, Elaeus, Ienzo – they were all standing there, still in their labcoats. The door had only been locked to him, then. There'd been nobody in the computer room, nowhere else for them to have come from.

Xehanort walked towards Ansem, arrogant smirk on his face as he asked, "Would you like to see it, Master Ansem?"

"See what, Xehanort?" Madness lurked in his student's amber eyes, making Ansem back away warily.

"The door, of course."

_Keep him talking._ "No, I would rather not." Why weren't his other apprentices stopping this? He glanced over his shoulder at them. Braig was the only one looking at him, with a hint of apology in his eyes. The rest were focused on their white-haired leader.

The words momentarily died in his mouth, only to start up once more when Xehanort grabbed him and began dragging him into the laboratory. Orders for him to stop, asking his former students to help him, accusations of treachery, curses, all fell on deaf ears as he was pulled through areas of the lab he hadn't known about. The wooden door they eventually stopped in front of was deceptively plain, hiding what he could only have described as a mass of energy. _The heart of Radiant Garden. It must be._

"Xehanort, stop this," Ansem said as the young man pulled shoved him forward. He stumbled, then turned and reached out a hand. "You're not thinking clearly. Xehanort, please don't do this..." he trailed off as the door shut behind him and vanished.

There was no going back.


	5. Chapter 5

He walked.

There was nothing else to do really. If he stood still, the darkness began creeping around him, chilling him to the bone. Screaming himself hoarse did nothing but make his ears ring and throat hurt. It did not make the door reappear, did not bring Xehanort back with apologies for having locked him away in this place. So he walked, repeatedly turning over in his mind the actions of his apprentices. He'd lost track of time almost immediately, and could have been walking for minutes or days – he had no idea.

He was so lost in thought that it wasn't until he stumbled and nearly fell that he realized that the formless void had given way to a city. A dark city; the garish lights from meaningless signs did little to illuminate the street he stood on. Still, it was a city, and a city meant people. Ansem hurried to the nearest door, sure that _somebody_ had to be awake for them to leave the lights on, even if the deserted streets seemed to indicate a very late hour.

_Thunk-thunk-thunk_. "Hello?" he called, resting his fist against the cool door, soothing the sting for a moment before pounding again. _Thunk-thunk_. "Is somebody there? I'm lost-"

His voice broke and he fell silent, waiting for somebody, anybody, to open the door. After a long pause, he tried the latch.

Unlocked.

Cautiously, blinking in the bright artificial lights, Ansem stepped inside and let the door shut behind him.

Nothing. It was immediately obvious that the building was just as deserted as the streets. Dejected, Ansem slumped to the floor where he stood, back against the door. It didn't take very long for him to fall asleep there.

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The world he was in, Ansem decided, was a world of absolutely nothing. The mimicry of a city, without any of the details that people living here would have provided, as if it had no heart to draw life from. Lacking anything better to do, he located some paper and a pen in in what appeared to be a house that he'd stumbled into after being there for some time and began writing.

Writing made things clearer to him, let him sort out the events as he recorded them. His once-beloved students..._They have ceased to be human._ Human beings could not commit the atrocities Xehanort's reports had described. He looked down at what he had just written, then abandoned the page to locate some food.

He returned to it days later, frustrated at the way this strange place simply felt unreal to him. _I have been exiled to a nonexistent world._ Ansem nodded to himself; once one's heart was removed, one ceased to exist, and this world of nothingness proved that perfectly. The Heartless were obviously creatures of the dark, while people were of light. If you were neither...you may still be alive, in a sense, but you just weren't real.

Obviously, Xehanort had been trying to do this to his old teacher. Ansem smiled. He would not be gotten rid of so easily. "I will come for you, Xehanort," he said. "And then, I will take back what you have stolen from me. Like the darkness, I will come when and where you least expect, and destroy your life like you have mine."


End file.
